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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


Education 

GIFT  OF 


Louise  Farrow  Barr 


HIS  LITTLE  MOTHER 


"  Cosy  Corner  Series" 

HIS  LITTLE   MOTHER 

BY 

MISS   MULOCK 

AUTHOR    OF    "  JOHN    HALIFAX,    GENTLEMAN,"    ETC. 

Illustrated  by  Etheldred  B.  Barry 


BOSTON 

JOSEPH   KNIGHT   COMPANY 

1896 


Copyright,  1895 

BY 

Joseph  Knight  Company 


Education 
Add   to  Lib, 

GIFT 


IliVSTRATIO: 

<3> 


*> 


His  Little  Mother   ....  Frontispiece. 

Headpiece  to  Part  I i 

"The  Trio  settled   Themselves  to   entire  enjoy- 
ment  OF   THE   SIGHT" 12 

"  TWO    RATHER    FORLORN    FIGURES  "       .            .             .             .  23 

Headpiece  to  Part  II. 25 

**  Dorcas  laid  it  aside,  and  opened  Cyprian's  "      .  37 

Tailpiece  to  Part  II. 44 

Headpiece  to  Part  III.     ......  45 

"  Dorcas  with  Her  Two   Children,  One  in  each 

HAND  " 58 

Tailpiece 65 


329 


HIS  LITTLE  MOTHER. 


PART  I 
TEN  YEARS  OLD 

p-  HEY  sat  close  together  — a   rather 
isolated    little    pair,   boy   and    girl, 
apparently  brother  and  sister — at  the 
merry  tea-table  of  a  children's  party. 

Children's  parties  then  were  not  ex- 
actly what  they  are  now.  We  used  to 
be  invited  at  four  o'clock,  and  we  always  left 
at  half  past  eight  —  on  our  feet,  generally  —  for 
our  toilets  were  not  of  a  kind  which  would 
startle  the  streets  of  that  innocent  country  town. 
We  had  short  sleeves,  certainly,  and  compara- 
tively low  necks,  but  tippets  and  long  white 
linen  gloves  made  all  right,  and  our  frocks 
descended  comfortably  to  the  ankle.  Besides 
which  we  wore  beautiful  white  frilly  "trousers" 
—  or  plain  ones  of  the  same  material  as  the 
dress.  Hats,  too,  which  really  covered  the 
heady  and  were  tied  down,  gypsy  fashion,  over 


2  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

a  bush  of  curls  —  if  our  hair  would  curl ;  if  not, 
it  was  plaited  into  tails  —  the  more  the  better. 
I  remember  on  state  occasions  my  mother  used 
to  plait  mine  into  six,  three  on  each  side,  tied 
with  bright  ribbons,  of  which  I  was  exceedingly 
proud. 

This  little  girl  —  perhaps  she  had  no  mother 
to  be  conceited  about  her  hair,  for  it  was  only 
divided  into  two  tails,  not  very  carefully  plaited, 
and  tied  with  rather  shabby  brown  ribbon. 
Neither  she  nor  the  little  boy  was  quite  as  well 
dressed  as  the  rest  of  the  young  party ;  but  they 
were  neat  and  clean,  and,  though  not  exactly 
blooming  children,  were  interesting,  if  only 
from  the  way  they  seemed  to  hang  together,  as 
though  accustomed  to  depend  upon  themselves, 
or  rather  upon  one  another,  for  everything. 

At  least,  so  it  seemed  to  the  lady  who  watched 
them  —  one  Miss  Waldershare,  a  rich  and  lonely 
woman,  glad  of  any  interest,  especially  when  it 
came  in  the  shape  of  a  child.  She  was  only  a 
passing  visitor  in  the  town,  and  had  come  almost 
accidentally  to  the  party,  where  she  had  nobody 
belonging  to  her.  Neither  had  these  two  little 
people,  apparently.  All  the  other  young  guests 
had  come  with  mothers,  aunts,  or  nurses  ;  but 
these,  Miss  Waldershare  had  observed,  had 
walked  in,  walked  up-stairs  to  take  their  things 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  3 

off,  and  walked  down  again,  hand-in-hand,  quite 
alone. 

The  two  little  faces,  unlike,  and  yet  with  a 
certain  family  look  which  satisfied  her  as  to 
their  relationship,  touched  her  more  than  all  the 
merry  faces  round  the  table.  Particularly  so 
when  dangerous  dainties  circulated  round  it,  and 
the  boy  would  look  appealingly  to  the  girl,  who 
smiled  back  either  a  "No"  or  a  "Yes."  But 
both  were  given  smilingly  and  accepted  obedi- 
ently. He  was  a  big,  handsome  boy,  much 
bigger  and  handsomer  than  his  sister,  with  a 
soft,  good-natured,  rather  weak  expression  : 
whereas  she  was  small,  dark,  thin,  with  sharp, 
firm  features ;  an  "  old "  face  rather,  which 
might  almost  have  been  called  plain  but  for  the 
look  of  love  in  her  eyes,  and  the  sweet  decision 
of  her  mouth.  All  the  better,  since  the  boy, 
pretty  as  he  was,  seemed  of  an  undecided  na- 
ture ;  as  if  it  were  almost  a  relief  to  have  some- 
body to  settle  everything  for  him. 

So  at  least  thought  Miss  Waldershare,  amused 
to  notice  how  character  shows  itself  even  at  ten 
years  old. 

"You  are  about  ten,  I  suppose,  my  dear," 
said  she  to  the  little  girl,  "and  a  sensible  girl 
you  are,  too,  not  to  let  your  brother  eat  too 
much  plum-cake.     And  he  is  a  good  boy  to  mind 


4  HIS    LITTLE   MOTHER. 

what  you  say,"  added  she,  patting  the  handsome 
head,  which  had  dropped  disconsolately  when, 
for  the  third  time,  the  tempting  dish  was  al- 
lowed to  pass. 

"We  are  both  ten,  ma'am"  (children  were 
always  taught  to  say  "ma'am"  and  "sir"  in 
those  days),  "  we  are  twins,  though  I  am  so 
little,  and  he  is  so  big  and  tall.  I  am  obliged  to 
be  very  careful  what  he  eats.  He  is  not  as 
strong  as  he  looks,  and  he  does  not  like  being 
ill  or  taking  physic." 

"  Nobody  does,  I  think.  But  he  is  a  lucky 
boy  to  have  such  a  wise  little  sister." 

"  I  am  his  little  mother,"  answered  the  child, 
in  a  grave,  old-fashioned  way.  "  Mamma  told 
me  I  was  to  be  his  little  mother  till  she  came 
back  again." 

"  Is  she  away  from  home,  then  ?  " 

"  A  long  way  from  home  —  in  India.  She 
has  been  gone  two  years  and  a  month.  It  will 
be  four  years  and  eleven  months  before  she  and 
papa  are  back  again." 

"  Four  years,  ten  months,  and  two  weeks  — 
we  counted  yesterday,  Dor,"  corrected  the  little 
boy  —  to  which  the  sister  assented,  looking 
quite  pleased,  and  saying  that  "  he  was  always 
so  good  at  arithmetic." 

"  And  what  was  it  he  called  you  ? "  asked  Miss 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  5 

Waldershare,  more  and  more  interested,  yet  not 
liking  to  seem  too  curious,  as  she  thought  the 
ordinary  reticence  of  politeness  ought  to  be  ob- 
served with  children  as  much  as  with  grown-up 
folks. 

The  little  girl  laughed.  "  Oh,  Dor  —  or  Dor- 
mouse —  or  Dor-beetle  —  I  have  lots  of  names. 
But  my  right  name  is  Dorcas.  Rather  ugly,  is 
it  not  ?  But  then  his  is  a  very  pretty  one  — 
Cyprian.  Mamma  said  he  was  always  to  be 
called  Cyprian  in  full.  She  is  very  fond  of  him. 
She  thinks  there  never  was  such  a  boy."  This 
was  said  in  a  confidential  whisper,  as  the  child's 
heart  warmed  instinctively  to  the  motherly, 
childless  heart  of  her  questioner. 

Somebody  now  called  upon  Miss  Waldershare 
to  start  a  game,  and  she  was  separated  from  her 
two  small  friends,  and  swamped  in  the  general 
vortex  for  an  hour  or  two ;  at  the  end  of  which 
time,  however,  she  had  contrived  to  find  out  all 
that  was  to  be  found  out  concerning  Dorcas  and 
Cyprian. 

Their  parents,  though  remotely  connected 
with  the  little  town,  where  everybody  knew 
everybody,  had  never  been  seen  there,  having 
gone  to  Calcutta,  or  Benares,  or  Bombay  —  no- 
body was  quite  sure  where  —  leaving  behind 
these  children  with  three  old  ladies,  distant  re- 


6  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

lations,  who  resided  here.  The  giver  of  the 
party  scarcely  knew  the  names  of  her  small 
guests  —  they  were  merely  "the  next-door  chil- 
dren," invited  "for  kindness." 

And,  though  both  their  hostess  and  every- 
body else  was  really  kind  to  them  —  or  would 
have  been,  had  they  mixed  themselves  up  easily 
with  the  rest  —  still,  to  the  very  end  of  the 
evening,  Miss  Waldershare  noticed  a  certain 
forlornness  in  the  little  pair,  who  went  about  to- 
gether, or  sat  close  together,  hand-in-hand,  as  if 
unused  to  general  society,  and  belonging  spe- 
cially to  one  another,  and  not  to  anybody  else  ; 
so  much  so  that  even  she,  generally  so  success- 
ful in  shaking  up  a  party  together,  found  them 
a  difficult  element  to  deal  with. 

First,  the  boy  was  so  exceedingly  shy  that 
there  was  no  doing  anything  with  him.  He 
would  not,  or  could  not,  play  at  any  game  — 
not  even  simple  "hunt  the  slipper,"  or  merry 
"kiss-in-the-ring."  He  refused  absolutely  to 
give  or  to  "cry"  a  forfeit ;  and  when,  tempted 
by  the  fun  and  laughing,  he  was  at  last  lured 
into  blind-man's-buff,  he  somehow  got  into 
everybody's  way,  and  being  accidentally  knocked 
down,  burst  into  such  a  piteous  howl  that  he 
was  obliged  to  be  carried  off  at  once  up-stairs* 

There,  ever  so  long  after,  Miss  Waldershare 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  J 

found  him,  with  his  faithful  little  sister  sitting 
patiently  beside  him,  in  the  deserted  bedroom. 

"  Is  he  hurt  ?  "  the  lady  asked,  anxiously. 

"Oh  no  ;  only  he  had  rather  stay  here." 

"  But  why  should  you  stay,  my  little  girl  ? 
You  like  fun  ;  I  saw  you  playing  very  merrily. 
Go  back  to  the  rest." 

"Without  Cyprian  ?  "  said  Dorcas,  with  wide- 
open  eyes  ;  as  if  such  an  idea  produced  in  her 
mind  simple  astonishment.  "  Oh  dear,  no  !  He 
does  not  like  being  alone.  Mamma  told  me 
never  to  leave  Cyprian." 

"That  settles  the  point,"  said  Miss  Walder- 
share,  smiling ;  and  went  down-stairs  again. 
But  several  times  she  returned,  and  tried  to 
coax  the  little  fellow  back  to  the  gay  party  be- 
low. However,  he  was  either  too  shy,  or  too 
sulky,  or  too  much  accustomed  to  have  every- 
thing his  own  way,  with  his  "  little  mother  "  for 
his  devoted  slave;  for  though  once  or  twice  he 
yielded  to  persuasion  so  far  as  to  go  to  the  top 
of  the  stairs  —  being  evidently  of  a  soft  and 
yielding  disposition  — still  he  always  came  back 
again,  and  sheltered  himself  behind  his  sister, 
as  if,  though  so  much  less  than  himself,  she  was 
his  naturaj  refuge. 

For  Dorcas,  she  did  her  utmost,  poor  little 
woman,    to  get  him  into   a   better    mind;  and 


8  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

when  all  failed  —  and  the  boy's  gentle  obstinacy 
and  hesitating  sweetness  were  most  difficult  to 
make  anything  out  of  —  she  soothed  him,  she 
comforted  him,  she  apologized  for  him.  Finally, 
when  all  the  kindly  inquirers  left  him  and  her 
together,  she  sat  beside  the  little  fellow  in  the 
somewhat  dreary  bedroom,  listening  to  the 
noisy  rout  down-stairs,  for  very  nearly  two 
hours. 

"  Would  you  like  to  go  and  have  a  dance  ? 
They  are  dancing,  you  hear  ? " 

Dorcas  looked  up  at  Miss  Waldershare  with  a 
world  of  grateful  pleasure  in  her  eyes.  She  was 
not  pretty ;  but  she  had  that  sort  of  airy,  well- 
set  figure  which  seems  made  for  dancing.  Al- 
ready her  little  feet  were  beating  time  to  the 
music. 

"Do  go,  child,"  said  the  kind  lady.  "Run 
away ;  I  will  stay  with  your  brother." 

Poor  little  "  Dor  "  was  almost  off  —  the  music 
was  playing  such  a  lovely  tune,  nearly  as  entic- 
ing as  that  of  the  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin  — 
when  she  felt  her  dress  caught  by  Cyprian's  im- 
ploring hand. 

She  sat  down  again.  "He  doesn't  dance  — 
he  doesn't  like  it.  Thank  you — no.  Perhaps 
I  had  better  stay  with  Cyprian.  It  will  soon  be 
time   for  going  home.     Mamma  said  we  were 


HTS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  9 

never  to  be  out  after  dark,  on  account  of 
Cyprian.     He  catches  cold  so  soon." 

"  But  this  is  a  warm  summer  night,"  began 
Miss  Waldershare,  feeling  inclined  to  argue  the 
point ;  and  doubtful  of  the  wisdom  of  allowing 
one  child  to  sacrifice  everything  to  another 
child.  Still,  there  was  something  so  pathetic  in 
this  literal  obedience  to  the  wishes  of  the  far- 
away mother — this  entire  devotion  to  a  rather 
trying  little  brother  —  that  the  kind  stranger 
lady,  unto  whom  it  had  pleased  Heaven  to  give 
neither  the  sweetness  nor  the  bitterness  of 
family  duties,  held  her  tongue  and  remonstrated 
no  more. 

When  next  time  she  went  after  them  —  for 
amid  all  the  fun  and  frolic  down-stairs  she  was 
haunted  by  a  vision  of  the  little  forlorn  twins 
sitting  in  the  deserted  bedroom  all  alone  —  she 
found  her  birds  were  flown. 

Dorcas,  she  learned,  had  quietly  crept  away 
with  her  little  brother,  not  waiting  for  supper; 
though  she  had  been  seen  standing  for  several 
minutes  at  the  hall  door  till  she  could  say  good- 
by  "  politely"  to  the  hostess. 

"Mamma  said  we  were  never  to  go  away  from 
any  visit  without  thanking  the  lady  of  the  house 
for  our  pleasant  evening,"  she  had  explained  to 
somebody;  and  been  laughed  at  a  good  deal 
for  her  "  old-fashioned  "  ways. 


IO  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

No  doubt,  the  family  thought,  she  learned 
them  from  those  three  prim  elderly  ladies  with 
whom  she  must  lead  such  a  dull  life,  "  to  say 
nothing  of  that  fanciful,  disagreeable  little 
brother,  to  whom  she  gives  up  everything,  ap- 
parently never  thinking  of  herself  at  all.  Poor 
little  soul ! 

But  Miss  Waldershare,  who  had  seen  many  a 
child  who  thought  of  itself  a  great  deal,  who 
was  everybody's  pet,  from  whom  nobody  ever 
expected  anything — and  certainly  never  got  it 
—  turn  out  to  be  not  only  the  most  unpleasant 
but  most  unhappy  of  young  people,  did  not  al- 
together pity  "  Dor."  The  child  had  at  least  — 
so  one  of  the  other  children  said  —  "  somebody 
to  make  a  fuss  over." 

But  having  a  firm  belief  in  compensation  — 
also  some  sadly  humble  belief  in  herself  as  an 
instrument  of  the  same  —  for  there  are  those  to 
whom  Heaven  seems  to  deny  all  personal  joys, 
in  order  that  they  should  be  better  able  to  make 
other  people  happy  —  Miss  Waldershare  set  her 
benevolent  wits  to  work  to  invent  some  small 
pleasure  for  these  two  children,  whose  pleasures 
were  so  few. 

Fate,  kindly  seized  upon,  often  turns  kind. 
The  very  next  day  every  vacant  wall  in  the  town 
broke  out  into  an  eruption  of  huge  handbills, 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  II 

announcing  that  Signor  Bianchini,  the  cele- 
brated pyrotechnist,  would  on  a  certain  evening 
have  a  grand  display  in  the  High  Street ;  and 
would  end  by  walking — under  patronage  of  the 
Worshipful  the  Mayor  —  from  one  of  the  win- 
dows in  the  Town-hall  to  a  window  opposite,  on 
the  tight-rope,  amid  a  shower  of  rockets  and 
Roman  candles. 

Now,  the  noble  art  of  pyrotechny  was  then  in 
its  infancy,  and  Blondin  the  Great  had  neither 
been  born  nor  thought  of.  Consequently,  the 
little  town  was  much  excited  ;  and  on  the  rumor 
being  spread  that  the  hero  of  the  day  was  no 
other  than  a  certain  Jem  White —  who  had  once 
fled  the  town  in  disgrace  for  throwing  crackers 
and  squibs  on  Gunpowder  Plot  day,  to  return  in 
honor  and  glory  as  the  celebrated  Signor  Bian- 
chini—  a  touch  of  romance  added  to  the  inter- 
est. All  the  towns-people,  high  and  low  —  the 
low  in  the  street,  and  the  high  upon  every 
available  shop-front  and  first-floor  window — as- 
sembled to  witness  the  show. 

Miss  Waldershare,  putting  off  her  departure 
for  a  day,  engaged  a  tiny  room  with  a  balconied 
window,  over  a  bookseller's  shop ;  and  thither, 
after  much  perturbation  and  great  hesitation  on 
the  part  of  the  three  old  ladies,  she  succeeded 
in    carrying  off  her   little  friends,  Dorcas   and 


12 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 


Cyprian  Hall.  There,  by  seven  o'clock  on  a 
July  night,  she  established  herself,  with  the 
twins  one  on  each  side  of  her,  which  arrange- 
ment, however,  was  soon  modified. 

"  May  he  come  beside  me,  ma'am  ?     If  there 
should  be  a  —  a   noise  —  fireworks  do  make  a 

noise  some- 
times, I  think  ? 
—  he  will  like  to 
be  closer  beside 
me.  He  is  rather 
timid,  you  see," 
added,  with  a 
half -apologetic 
air,  the  "little 
mother." 

She  was  not 
timid — not  even 
when  the  balcony  gave  a  sudden  crack,  and 
with  involuntary  instinct  she  used  all  her  small 
strength  to  push  Cyprian  back  upon  the  safe 
window-ledge,  remaining  outside  herself.  But 
it  was  a  false  alarm,  though  it  frightened  Miss 
Waldershare  a  little,  and  Cyprian  very  much  — 
until  there  was  proved  to  be  no  danger,  and  the 
trio  settled  themselves  to  entire  enjoyment  of 
the  sight. 

What  a  sight  it  was !     One  of  the  many  chil- 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  1 3 

dren  who  saw  it  remembers  it  still :  even  after 
five-and-forty  years  !  the  proud  delight  of  sitting 
up  till  eleven  at  night,  and  being  initiated  into 
the  mysteries  of  the  nocturnal  world — the 
streets,  lit  with  oil-lamps  (gas  being  still  un- 
known there),  the  houses,  dim  and  tall,  and  the 
quiet  starry  sky  overhead,  such  a  contrast  to 
the  noisy  crowd  below.  Then  that  black  plat- 
form, whence  all  the  wonderful  show  was  to 
come  - —  what  dozens  of  young  eyes  gazed  on  it 
in  eager  suspense !  till,  punctual  to  the  ap- 
pointed minute,  there  shot  forth,  with  a  whiz, 
a  whir,  and  a  glare,  the  first  rocket.  Up  it 
went  —  making  everybody  jump,  and  Cyprian 
utter  an  audible  cry  —  up  like  a  live  creature, 
flying,  or  rather  shooting,  right  into  the  sky,  no 
one  could  exactly  see  where,  till  it  fell  down,  in 
a  shower  of  fiery  rain,  on  the  very  heads  of  the 
crowd,  who  screamed  and  laughed,  and  ran 
hither  and  thither  ;  trying,  some  to  avoid,  some 
to  snatch  at  the  blazing  sparks. 

Another,  and  another,  and  another  —  each  ris- 
ing higher  and  falling  steadier  than  the  last ; 
then  a  grand  illumination  of  "  Roman  candles," 
showing  ail  the  faces  of  the  people  below,  and 
lighting  up  the  architecture  of  the  old  Town- 
hall,  which  the  townsfolk  were  so  proud  of. 
Finally,  a  most  wonderful  set  piece  —  a  wheel  of 


14  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

light,  which  kept  turning  and  turning,  every  mo- 
ment more  rapidly,  throwing  out  a  shower  of 
sparks  all  round. 

"  The  most  beautiful  thing  we  ever  saw  in  all 
our  life — isn't  it,  Cyprian  ?"  cried  Dor.  "What 
can  it  be  ? " 

"  A  Catherine-wheel,"  said  Miss  Waldershare, 
smiling  at  the  "  we  "  and  the  "our  life  "  in  the 
singular  number —  so  natural  to  the  twins. 

"A  Catherine-wheel?"  repeated  the  sister, 
meditatively.  "  I  wonder  has  that  anything  to 
do  with  St.  Catherine?  Mamma  had  a  picture 
of  her  leaning  against  a  wheel.  She  was  so 
pretty  —  but  with  a  sweet,  sad  kind  of  face, 
something  like  mamma's." 

"  You  have  a  pretty  mamma,  then  ?  "  said 
Miss  Waldershare,  ignoring  the  other  adjective. 
"  And  you  have  heard  of  St.  Catherine  —  and 
very  likely  about  Raffaelle,  who  painted  her  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  brightening  up  extremely.  "  I 
like  to  read  all  I  can  about  painters,  for  I  am  so 
fond  of  drawing.  I  often  try  to  draw.  Mamma 
says  I  shall  learn  properly  some  day,  and  then  I 
can  teach  Cyprian." 

"  Does  Cyprian  like  reading?" 

"N — no,"  with  a  slight  hesitation.  "Indeed 
he  has  not  time  for  reading.  He  learns  Latin, 
you  know.     So  I  read  for  both  of  us,  and  then 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  1 5 

I  can  tell  him  anything  interesting.  It  saves 
him  so  much  trouble. " 

"  I  don't  like  trouble,  and  I  can't  imagine  how 
anybody  could  like  reading,"  said  Cyprian,  with 
his  most  attractive  smile. 

"  But  he  likes  writing,  and  he  writes  so  well 
—  small  hand  —  and  a  great  deal  better  than  I," 
eagerly  said  the  little  sister.  "  And  he  can  read 
written-hand  beautifully  —  makes  out  every  word 
in  mamma's  letters.  If  you  knew  how  delight- 
ful are  mamma's  letters  —  as  interesting  as  a 
story-book.  We  get  one  every  mail,  and  we 
look  for  it  days  before  it  comes.  It  has  been 
coming  for  a  week  now.  Perhaps  we  shall  find 
it  when  we  get  home  to-night." 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  the  lady,  with  a  slight 
tremble  in  her  voice.  Never,  either  as  child  or 
woman,  had  Miss  Waldershare  got  any  mother's 
letters. 

"  If  it  does  come,  and  if  she  cared  to  call  to- 
morrow, perhaps  we  might  let  her  see  it,"  whis- 
pered Cyprian  to  his  sister,  who  slightly  hesi- 
tated, as  if  that  were  a  privilege  too  great  for 
any  mortal  creature. 

"  To-morrow,  my  dears,  I  shall  be  miles  and 
miles  away.  I  shall  not  see  you  for  a  very  long 
time,  I  fear." 

"What  a  pity  !     Because  I  shall  tell  mamma 


l6  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

all  about  you  — we  always  tell  her  everything  — 
and  if  she  knew  how  kind  you  have  been  to  us 
both,  she  would  let  me  show  you  her  letters. 
But  I  should  like  to  ask  her  first ;  and  it  will  be 
six  months  before  we  get  the  answer." 

"  Of  course  it  will,"  said  Miss  Waldershare, 
thinking  of  the  great  gulf  of  time  and  space 
between  mother  and  children  —  of  the  letters 
received  ignorantly,  months  after  date,  on  both 
sides  —  and  of  how  sad  it  was,  that  with  such 
tender  love  between  children  and  parents,  the 
one  should  grow  up,  and  the  other  should  grow 
old  in  such  a  long  separation  that  when  they  did 
meet  again  it  would  be  almost  as  strangers. 

"  But  come,  my  dears,  the  fireworks  are  be- 
ginning again.  And  there  is  Signor  Bianchini 
on  the  tight-rope.  See  how  beautifully  he  bal- 
ances himself  with  that  long  pole.  Would  you 
like  to  be  a  tight-rope  dancer,  Cyprian  ?  " 

u  He  is  to  be  a  gentleman,  and  go  to  college, 
and  then  go  out  to  India  to  papa,"  said  Dorcas, 
with  a  little  touch  of  pride.  And  when  the 
boy,  boy-like,  clapped  his  hands  with  delight, 
watching  the  ci-devant  Jem  White  make  his 
perilous  journey  over  the  upturned  heads  of  the 
crowd,  the  more  sensitive  girl  shuddered,  and 
turned  pale. 

"  Would  you  like  to  go  in,  and  not  look  any 
more  ?  "  said  Miss  Waldershare,  kindly. 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  \J 

"  No,  thank  you;  something  might  happen  — 
Cyprian  might,  overbalance  himself.  No,  I  would 
rather  stay  by  Cyprian." 

And  though  still  white  and  trembling,  she  did 
stay  till  the  very  last.  But,  besides  the  buns 
and  oranges,  a  glass  of  wine  had  to  be  admin- 
istered to  the  child  before  she  was  able  to  walk 
home.  She  seemed  but  a  fragile  little  thing, 
despite  her  spirit  and  — only  the  word  was  not 
known  in  those  days  — her  *  pluck." 

The  last  of  the  fireworks  shot  up  —  a  sheaf 
of  flame,  hissing  and  crackling  —  above  the 
Town-hall  and  the  old  church-tower,  right  into 
the  silent  stars ;  there  was  a  shout  of  ecstatic 
cheering  from  the  crowd,  and  a  final  "sending 
round  the  hat,"  which  ceremony  had  been  gone 
through  several  times  already,  from  window  to 
window,  Dorcas  apologizing  sadly  that  she  had 
no  penny  to  drop  into  it  —  "But  mamma  told 
us  that  papa  was  not  rich,  and  that  we  were  not  to 
spend  more  pennies  than  we  could  help."  And 
then  the  signor  bowed  his  thanks — in  a  the- 
atrical attitude,  beside  the  very  biggest  of 
Catherine-wheels  —  and  the  crowd  began  to 
separate.     The  night's  delight  was  ended. 

Miss  Waldershare  walked  through  the  fast- 
thinning  street  with  her  two  proteges,  one  in 
each  hand.     Cyprian,  no  longer  shy,  was  chat- 


1 8  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

tering  like  a  magpie,  but  Dorcas,  who  had 
hitherto  done  the  talking,  now  began  to  be  si- 
lent, evidently  very  tired.  Her  friend  would 
have  liked  to  take  her  up  and  carry  her;  she 
was  strong  enough  and  the  child  small  enough  j 
but  Dorcas  was  so  astonished  at  the  idea  that 
she  gave  it  up,  and  merely  helped  the  poor  lit- 
tle girl  as  well  as  she  could  till  they  reached  the 
Terrace. 

"  I  will  just  wait  and  see  if  you  have  got  your 
letter,  and  then  I  will  bid  you  good-by.  I  am 
going  away  to-morrow  morning,"  said  Miss 
Waldershare,  with  a  slight  regret  at  her  heart. 
Her  life  was  almost  as  solitary  as  that  of  these 
little  people. 

"  Is  that  the  children  ?  Bring  them  in  at  once 
to  me,"  said  a  sharp  voice  behind  the  sleepy 
maid-servant  who  opened  the  door. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Moffatt,  is  that  you  ?  Have  you 
got  mamma's  letters  ?  " 

"  There  are  letters." 

"I  am  so  glad!"  said  Miss  Waldershare. 
She  kissed  the  two  children,  and  walked  quickly 
away. 

By  one  of  those  accidental  delays  which  visit 
us  all,  she,  however,  did  not  leave  next  morn- 
ing. Business  —  other  people's  business,  of 
course  —  rose  up,  which  detained  her  nearly  a 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  I9 

week  ;  and  being  rather  troublesome  business, 
her  mind  was  so  full  of  it  that  she  hardly  gave 
a  thought  to  the  twins,  Dorcas  and  Cyprian, 
till,  coming  home  from  church,  she  passed  the 
end  of  the  Terrace,  and  saw  two  little  figures 
walking  down  it,  slowly  and  quietly,  hand-in- 
hand,  two  little  black  figures,  so  far  as  her 
short  sight  enabled  her  to  judge,  which  made 
her  at  first  think  it  could  not  possibly  be  they. 
Nevertheless,  she  felt  a  strong  inclination  to 
call  and  say  good-by  over  again  —  for  she  was 
going  abroad,  on  a  mission  of  mercy,  with  a  sick 
friend,  and  it  might  be  months,  nay  years,  before 
she  was  in  England  again. 

So  she  sent  up  her  card,  asking  to  see  "  little 
Miss  HaU" 

The  servant,  looking  rather  surprised,  showed 
her  into  an  empty  parlor,  where  she  waited  sev- 
eral minutes,  and  then  the  two  poor  little  chil- 
dren, still  hand-in-hand,  walked  in. 

Truly,  "poor"  children,  having  sustained  the 
utmost  loss  a  child  can  know. 

They  were  dressed  in  black  from  head  to 
foot  —  not  even  a  v/hite  collar  —  and  their  faces 
were  very  grave,  Cyprian's  being  rosy  still,  but 
out  of  Dorcas's  every  ray  of  color  had  departed. 
Her  eyes  looked  as  if  she  had  been  crying  all 
day  long,  and  the  voice  she  spoke  in,  though 
quiet,  was  forced  and  strange. 


20  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

"  How  do  you  do,  ma'am  ?  It  is  kind  of  you  to 
come  and  see  us." 

"  My  poor  little  girl,  what  has  happened  ?  " 

"  Mamma  is  dead  ! "  cried  Cyprian,  with  a 
burst  of  tears. 

"  Yes,  our  mamma  is  dead,"  said  Dorcas,  but 
without  crying.  She  seemed  to  have  wept  all 
her  tears  away. 

"  But  —  the  letter  ?  " 

"  It  was  from  papa.  He  said  mamma  had  been 
dead  a  week.  That  is  two  months  ago.  So  it 
is  two  months  and  a  week  since  we  had  any 
mamma.  I  can't  understand  it  at  all,"  added 
the  boy,  shaking  his  head  in  a  forlorn  sort  of  way. 

His  sister  put  her  arm  round  him,  and  drew 
him  to  her,  at  which  he  began  sobbing  afresh. 
In  truth,  they  all  wept  together ;  Miss  Walder- 
share  never  thinking  till  afterward  how  strange 
it  was  that  she,  who  had  had  no  tears  for  many 
a  year,  should  shed  them  now,  over  a  woman 
whom  she  had  never  seen  and  scarcely  heard  of. 

She  wondered  what  kind  of  person  the  father 
was,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  ask  if  she  might 
see  his  letter. 

"  Oh  yes  "  (no  hesitation  now).  "  But  I  re- 
member Miss  Moffatt  has  it.  She  said  she 
should  keep  it,  lest  papa  might  forget  his  prom- 
ise, and  take  us  away  from  here." 

"  Would  you  wish  to  go  ?  " 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  21 

"Oh  no.  It  doesn't  matter.  The  Miss  Mof- 
fatts  are  very  kind  to  us.  Everything  goes  on 
as  usual,  except  for  mamma's  letters.  She  has 
been  a  year  away,  and  this  is  the  first  time  the 
mail  ever  came  in  without  bringing  us  one  of 
mamma's  letters." 

The  child  spoke  in  a  dull,  sad,  almost  com- 
plaining tone  ;  evidently  even  she  did  not  yet 
realize  —  how  difficult  it  is  for  any  of  us  to  real- 
ize !  —  that  sudden  pause  of  death-silence. 

"Did  your  mamma  ever  say — had  you  any 
idea  —  ?  "  began  Miss  Waldershare,  and  stopped. 
What  use  was  it  to  question  ?  The  plain,  hard 
fact  was  there  —  the  children  were  motherless. 

"  And  you  are  going  abroad,  too  ?  "  said  Dor- 
cas, when  she  had  sat  a  good  while,  holding  the 
kind  hand  whose  firm  clasp  was  the  only  way  in 
which  Miss  Waldershare  could  express  sym- 
pathy. "  We  shall  never  see  you  again.  It 
will  be  just  like  mamma's  going  —  only  you  have 
no  little  children  to  leave  behind." 

"  No,  nobody." 

"  Mamma  would  not  have  left  us  if  she  could 
have  helped  it  —  she  told  me  so;  but  she  had 
to  go  with  papa.  She  said  so  once —  I  was  not 
to  tell  Cyprian,  and  I  almost  forgot  it  myself 
till  now  —  it  -seemed  so  impossible  ;  but  she 
said  —  "     Dorcas  hesitated. 

"  Said  what,  my  dear  ?  " 


22  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

"  That  even  if  she  died  we  were  not  to  mind, 
as  she  would  not  be  much  farther  away  from  us 
than  when  she  was  in  India,  perhaps  not  so  far. 
What  did  she  mean  ? " 

Miss  Waldershare  tried  to  explain  ;  tried  to 
put  into  the  child's  heart,  without  giving  any 
impression  of  fear  or  pain,  that  heavenly  conso- 
lation of  the  continual  nearness  of  the  dead,  of 
the  narrow  barrier  that  for  all  pure  and  loving 
souls  exists  between  the  life  here  and  the  life 
everlasting. 

"  I  understand,"  Dorcas  said,  at  last.  "And 
that  is  why  we  were  to  remember  what  she  used 
to  say  to  us,  and  do  what  she  wished  us  to  do, 
just  as  much  as  if  she  were  here  beside  us.  It 
will  be  much  the  same  now.  Do  you  hear  what 
the  lady  says  ?  Do  you  understand  her,  Cy- 
prian ? " 

Poor  Cyprian  !  He  had  ceased  crying  now, 
and  was  squatting  on  the  hearth-rug,  playing 
with  two  kittens,  quite  merry  and  content. 
None  the  less,  possibly  all  the  more,  did  Miss 
Waldershare  say,  "  Poor  Cyprian  !  " 

Her  time  was  limited,  and  she  rose  to  go. 

"  But  I  shall  not  forget  you,  dear.  I  shall 
write  to  you  now  and  then." 

"  Oh,  how  nice  !  We  never  get  letters  from 
anybody,  except  mamma."    Here  came  a  sudden 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 


23 


shudder  of  recollection  and  a  wild  look,  almost 
of  despair.  "  I  forgot.  We  shall  never  have 
any  more  letters  from  mamma.  What  shall  we 
do  ?     Oh,  Cyprian,  Cyprian  !  " 

That  cry,  so  shrill,  so  full  of  intolerable  agony, 
made  the  little  boy  spring  to  his  feet. 

"  Dor  —  Dor,  what  is  the  matter  ?  Please  be 
quiet.  You  frighten  me  so  —  you  make  me  so 
miserable." 

Then  the  sister,  with  a  violent  effort,  checked 
what  was  growing  into  an  almost  hysterical 
scream.  She  put  her  arms 
round  Cyprian,  and  hid  her 
face  on  his  shoulder  till  the 
sobs  ceased,  and  she  lifted 
up  her  face,  deadly  white,  in- 
deed, but  quite  composed. 

"Yes,  he  is  right;  I  must 
be  quiet.  He  has  nobody  to 
take  care  of  him  but  me  now. 


Thank 


you, 


Miss  Walder- 


share,    and    we  shall    be   de- 
lighted   to    get  your   letters. 
And    Cyprian    shall   write  —  he  writes  so  very 
well,  you  know,"  with  a  faint  smile,  as  she  put 
up  her  lips  for  a  farewell  kiss. 

It  had  not  quite  vanished,  that  piteous  smile, 
even  when  Miss  Waldershare    caught  her  last 


24  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

glimpse  of  the  twins,  standing  watching  her 
down  the  Terrace,  with  their  faces  pressed 
against  the  window-pane.  Two  rather  for- 
lorn figures,  with  their  mourning  clothes,  and 
grave,  sad  looks  ;  but  they  were  two  —  and  they 
stood  close  together,  hand-in-hand,  as  usual. 
Also,  Cyprian  had  his  head  safely  nestled  into 
the  shoulder  of  his  "little  mother." 

The  dead  mother  —  could  she  have  beheld 
them  —  might  have  felt  that  life  was  not  alto- 
gether hopeless  to  her  children. 


^^^s^w 


PdJrt  n 
TVEMTYYEAR5  0LD 

MISS  WALDERSHARE  did  not  return 
to  England  for  ten  years. 
Part  of  that  time  she  spent  with  her  friend, 
very  peacefully,  even  happily ;  and  when  the 
invalid  needed  her  no  more  there  were  many 
others  who  did  need  her.  That  sweet,  sunny 
nook  of  southern  France  was  always  full  of  sick 


26  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

and  sorrowful  folk,  come  to  die,  or  to  watch 
their  beloved  die,  beside  the  blue  Mediterra- 
nean. Consequently,  this  rich  and  kind-hearted 
English  lady,  who  had  no  home  ties,  never 
wanted  —  who  ever  does  want? — an  object 
whereon  to  expend  her  time,  her  money,  and 
her  sympathies.  And  this  was  well.  Sad  she 
might  sometimes  be  ;  but  she  was  never  either 
idle  or  lonely  ;  as  in  truth  no  woman  ever  is, 
unless  she  wishes  to  be  the  one,  and  deserves, 
by  her  unlovableness,  to  be  the  other. 

Miss  Waldershare  thus  lingered  on,  year  after 
year,  in  the  place  whither  she  had  accidentally 
drifted,  until  it  almost  became  a  second  home. 
She  might  never  have  come  home  at  all  —  that 
is,  to  England — had  not  business  called  her  to 
the  little  town  where  she  had  happened  to  be 
born,  but  where,  nevertheless,  she  had  not  a  sin- 
gle living  tie.  And  in  ten  years  even  her  few 
acquaintances  there  had  so  entirely  disappeared 
that  there  was  not  a  house  she  cared  to  go  to. 
She  put  up  at  the  inn.  And  in  spite  of  what  the 
cynic  writes  about  the  man  who,  going  through 
life,  finds  "his  warmest  welcome  at  an  inn," 
this  well-beloved  maiden  lady  was  so  accustomed 
to  find  every  door  open  to  her  and  every  face 
a  friendly  face,  that  the  inn  appeared  just  a  lit- 
tle solitary,  even  dull. 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  2? 

Having  transacted  her  business,  she  wandered 
about,  noticing  how  many  new  houses  had 
sprung  up  on  the  skirts  of  the  old  town ;  but 
the  place  itself  remained  unchanged.  There 
were  the  same  names  over  the  shops  in  the 
High  Street ;  the  usual  market  went  on  just  be- 
low the  Town-hall,  from  the  windows  of  which 
Signor  Bianchini  had  taken  his  memorable  tight- 
rope promenade,  watched  by  herself  and  the  lit- 
tle twins,  Dorcas  and  Cyprian  Hall,  on  the  night 
of  the  fireworks.  The  fatal  night  —  how  long 
they  must  have  remembered  it  !  —  when,  on  com- 
ing home,  they  got  the  news  of  their  mother's 
death. 

"Poor  little  souls!"  she  thought,  recalling 
that  time.  Familiar  as  she  was  with  sorrow, 
the  expression  of  the  children's  faces,  as  she  last 
saw  them  looking  out  of  the  parlor  window  that 
Sunday  afternoon,  had  never  gone  out  of  her 
mind.  "  But  they  cannot  be  children  now. 
They  must  nearly  be  grown  up  by  this  time.  ] 
wonder  what  has  become  of  them." 

For  though  she  had  faithfully  written,  and  re- 
ceived, at  long  intervals,  several  letters  in  return, 
not  from  Cyprian —  "he  had  so  little  time,"  his 
sister  said  —  but  from  Dorcas,  still  ten  years  is 
a  long  period  to  keep  up  any  correspondence,  es- 
pecially a  foreign  one,  and  with  such  very  small 


28  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

correspondents.  Miss  Waldershare  was  scarcely 
surprised  when  it  gradually  ceased.  Two  years 
at  least  had  passed  since  she  had  had  any  tid- 
ings of  the  young  Halls. 

She  was  a  shy  and  sensitive  person,  curiously  so 
for  a  middle-aged  woman  of  good  position,  whom 
nobody  would  have  expected  to  have  any  doubt 
of  herself  at  all.  But  she  had — though  circum- 
stances rather  than  natural  temperament  had 
caused  this.  She  never  liked  to  intrude  her- 
self upon  anybody,  especially  the  young,  and 
was  only  too  ready  to  accept  the  fact  that  people 
had  forgotten  her.  Therefore,  even  when  she 
passed  the  end  of  the  Terrace  where  the  twins 
used  to  live,  she  hesitated,  and  was  some  min- 
utes in  making  up  her  mind  to  knock  at  Miss 
Moffatt's  door. 

There  it  was,  the  brass  plate  with  "  The 
Misses  Moffatt  "  — who  had  begun  by  keeping  a 
school  —  staring  her  in  the  face.  She  lingered, 
looked  round,  might  even  have  gone  back  again, 
but  that  a  lady  and  gentleman  crossed  the  road 
to  her.  He  tall,  fair,  handsome  ;  the  girl  hang- 
ing on  his  arm  (people  usually  walked  arm-in- 
arm in  those  days)  small,  dark,  and  decidedly 
plain.  Miss  Waldershare  might  have  recog- 
nized them  had  she  not  forgotten  the  lapse  of 
time.  But  they  knew  her  at  once,  and  called 
her  by  name. 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  29 

"We  had  no  idea  you  were  in  England. 
When  did  you  come  ?  Why  did  you  not  let  us 
know?"  said  the  young  man,  impulsively;  and, 
in  spite  of  the  incipient  beard,  she  recalled  at 
once  the  pretty  boy-face  of  Cyprian  Hall.  His 
sister — yes,  of  course,  it  was  his  sister  —  his 
"little  mother"  that  used  to  be.  She  looked 
like  it  still  —  being  both  graver  and  older  in  ap- 
pearance than  her  twin. 

"Then  you  have  not  quite  forgotten  me?" 
said  the  lady,  pleased,  as  most  middle  aged  la- 
dies are,  at  being  recognized  after  so  long  a 
time. 

"  Oh !  Dor  knew  you  at  once.  Dor  never 
forgets  anybody." 

And  though  Dor  scarcely  said  a  word,  leav- 
ing all  the  talk  to  her  brother,  who  seemed  to 
have  a  great  gift  that  way,  the  pleasure  in  her 
eyes,  and  the  warm  grasp  of  her  hand,  proved  to 
Miss  Waldershare  the  truth  of  that  character. 
Yes,  Dorcas  Hall  looked  like  a  person  "  who 
never  forgot  anybody." 

"You  will  come  in,  of  course?  It  is  just 
tea-time ;  and  Miss  Moffatt  will  be  glad  to  see 
you,  or  any  friend  of  ours.  There  is  only  one 
Miss  Moffatt  now.  The  other  two  are  dead ; 
poor  old  dears !  so  Dor  and  I  have  almost  the 
house  to  ourselves  —  except  for  Mr.  Moffatt,  a 


30  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

nephew  of  theirs  ;  but  he  is  a  great  scholar,  and 
as  quiet  as  a  tame  cat.  Bless  me  !  I  hope  he 
didn't  hear  me.     There  he  is." 

And  Cyprian  nodded  to  a  half  bald  head, 
with  bright  eyes,  which  eyes  had  evidently  been 
watching  them  from  the  window. 

"  Very  quiet,  but  a  good  fellow,  for  all  that," 
continued  the  youth,  with  a  slightly  patronizing 
air.  "  He  and  I  shall  be  off  to  Oxford  in  two 
months  more,  and  then  Dor  will  have  to  make 
the  best  of  it  alone." 

Dor  smiled,  as  if  quite  accustomed  to  "  make 
the  best  of  it,"  and  they  entered  the  house  to- 
gether. 

When  she  took  Miss  Waldershare  up-stairs  to 
arrange  her  dress  a  little  — for  the  "old  maid  " 
was  just  a  shade  "  particular"  as  to  her  appear- 
ance —  Dorcas  explained,  with  a  look  of  proud 
pleasure,  that  her  brother  was  just  going  up  for 
his  matriculation  examination. 

"  Papa  was  a  long  time  in  consenting  ;  he 
was  never  at  college  himself,  and  does  not  see 
why  a  young  man  should  go  at  all,  especially 
one  who  might  be  a  Calcutta  merchant.  But 
Cyprian  does  not  want  to  be  a  merchant,  and 
does  not  care  to  go  out  to  Calcutta." 

"  No,  indeed,"  cried  Cyprian,  meeting  them 
on    the    staircase  and  overhearing;  "papa  has 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  3 1 

married  again,  and  there  is  a  horrid  lot  of  chil- 
dren. I  had  much  rather  stop  at  home  with 
Dor.  She  makes  me  work  —  that  is,  if  anybody 
could  do  it.  But  I'm  an  idle  fellow — I  shall 
never  do  much,  anyhow;  shall  I,  Dor?  "  said  he, 
with  that  charming  frankness  and  engaging  con- 
trition which,  in  some  people,  seems  equivalent 
to  doing  what  they  ought  to  do.  They  feel  as 
if  confessing  a  fault  were  almost  as  good  as 
amending  it. 

"  You  will  do  more  by  and  by,"  said  the  sis- 
ter, with  a  sad  expression  flitting  through  her 
smile.  "  Cyprian  has  had  a  great  deal  to  con- 
tend against,  Miss  Waldershare.  Papa  could 
not  afford  to  send  him  to  a  public  school,  so  he 
was  obliged  to  get  educated  here ;  and  when  at 
last  he  went  to  a  clergyman  to  study  —  he  — he 
came  back  again." 

"Was  sent  back,"  laughed  the  young  fellow, 
with  charming  candor,  which,  however,  sent  the 
hot  blood  into  his  sister's  face.  "But  I  am 
sure  if  I  told  the  whole  story  to  Miss  Walder- 
share she  would  agree  with  me  that  it  was  a 
confounded  shame." 

"Tea  is  waiting,"  said  Dorcas,  hastily,  and 
then  introduced  the  bald-headed  man  — not  such 
a  very  old  man  either  —  as  "Mr.  Moffatt,  from 
Oxford,  who  has  been  so  very  kind  to  Cyprian." 


32  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

"  Kindness  itself !  "  added  Cyprian.  "  I  am 
sure,  if  I  pass,  it  is  his  coaching  I  have  to  thank 
for  it" 

"You  must  pass,"  said  Mr.  MofTatt ;  and  "  He 
will  pass,"  said  Dorcas. 

"  Oh,  don't  lecture  !  I  hate  lecturing.  But 
I  mean  to  be  such  a  good  boy —  some  day." 

That  day,  however,  had  been  evidently  long 
of  coming.  Not  that  he  was  in  the  least  a 
"naughty"  boy.  On  the  contrary,  Miss  Wal- 
dershare  liked  him  extremely,  and  could  quite 
understand  how  everybody  liked  him  too.  He 
had  that  invincible  attractiveness,  born  of  a 
pleasant  inward  conviction  that  he  did  attract, 
which  makes  some  people  so  charming.  They 
throw  themselves  on  you  with  the  simplicity  of 
a  child  to  whom  no  one  has  ever  said  a  hard 
word  ;  they  are  quite  sure  of  your  regard  —  so 
sure  that  you  have  not  the  heart  to  refuse  it. 
Before  she  had  been  an  hour  in  the  room  with 
him,  Miss  Waldershare  felt  a  weak  consciousness 
that,  were  he  to  ask  her,  she  would  do  almost 
anything  for  young  Cyprian  Hall. 

And  his  "little  mother." 

"  Yes,  I  am  still  his  'little  mother,'  "  Dorcas 
answered,  smiling,  to  some  question  which  Miss 
Waldershare  put  on  bidding  good-by — not  a 
farewell    at  all,  for  she  had  been  already   per- 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  33 

suaded  by  Cyprian  to  remain  in  the  town  a  few 
clays  longer  ("just  to  comfort  poor  Dor  after  I 
am  gone,"  said  he,  with  a  pleasing  conviction 
that  she  would  want  comfort,  and  that  nobody 
could  make  up  to  her  for  the  loss  of  himself  — 
which,  perhaps,  was  not  untrue).  "  He  needed 
a* little  mother'  more  than  most  boys;  and, 
besides,  mamma  told  me  to  take  care  of  him." 

"Mamma  said  that"  — "Mamma  wished 
that,"  seemed,  even  after  all  these  years,  to  be 
the  invisible  law  of  right  to  the  orphans,  evi- 
dently as  completely  orphans  as  if  they  had 
been  left  without  either  father  or  mother.  And 
Dorcas,  with  her  silentness  and  somewhat  care- 
worn face,  much  older  looking  than  that  of  her 
twin,  seemed  to  have  taken  upon  herself  all  the 
duties  and  anxieties  of  a  mother. 

Altogether,  Miss  Waldershare  quitted  the  lit- 
tle household —  where  Miss  Moffatt,  its  nominal 
head,  had  never  once  appeared  (she  was  an  in- 
valid, and  Miss  Hall  managed  everything)  — with 
a  somewhat  heavy  heart.  The  brightest  bit, 
however —  she  being  of  a  rather  "  sentimental" 
turn — was  in  the  fancy  she  took  for  Mr.  Mof- 
fatt's  honest  countenance,  and  the  pleasure  she 
had  in  watching  how  he  seemed  to  do  every- 
thing he  could  think  of  for  quaint,  plain,  gentle 
Dorcas  Hall. 


34  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

She  saw  a  good  deal  of  both  him  and  the 
twins  during  the  next  two  days,  and  after  Cy- 
prian had  started  for  Oxford  in  the  highest  spir- 
its, and  without  a  doubt  concerning  his  "exam.," 
she  and  his  sister  had  much  talk  together.  But 
Dorcas  was  not  very  confidential,  not  even  on 
the  subject  of  Cyprian.  In  all  she  said  there 
seemed  to  be  some  arrih'e  pensee,  a  sense  of 
past  disappointment  and  future  doubt,  almost 
amounting  to  fear,  which,  putting  together  frag- 
ments which  she  rather  betrayed  than  told,  gave 
a  still  deeper  uneasiness  to  the  older  and  more 
experienced  woman. 

Cyprian  did  not  much  care  for  reading;  found 
study  difficult ;  his  sister  had  taught  herself 
Latin,  a  bit  of  Greek,  and  even  something  of 
mathematics,  in  order  to  teach  him.  He  had 
never  had  any  systematic  education  of  any  kind 
—  well,  that  was  not  his  fault,  but  Miss  Walder- 
share  knew  that  real  students,  true  workers,  who 
mean  to  make  their  way  in  the  world,  whether 
boy  or  girl,  will,  when  they  get  into  their  teens, 
begin  to  educate  themselves.  And  self-educa- 
tion is  perhaps  the  soundest  of  all. 

But  Cyprian  was  twenty,  and  had  not  begun 
earnestly  to  study  yet.  If  he  passed  even  the 
preliminary  examination  for  Oxford,  it  would 
be,  Dorcas  was  forced  to  own,  chiefly  owing  to 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  35 

the  excellent  and  gratuitous  "coaching"  given 
him  for  the  last  eight  weeks  by  Mr.  Moffatt. 

"  But  oh !  Miss  Waldershare,  you  see  how 
much  my  poor  boy  has  had  to  fight  against !  " 
pleaded  the  sister,  in  fond  deprecation.  "Even 
his  good  looks  and  his  winning  ways  have  been 
dangerous  to  him,  because  everybody  is  always 
admiring  him  and  inviting  him  out.  Yet  he  is 
as  steady  as  a  rock- — -never  gets  into  any  ill- 
ways,  late  hours,  or  the  like,  and  he  is  always 
so  easily  led,  and  so  good  and  affectionate.  To 
part  from  him  will  be  dreadful,  but  I  shall  be 
content  if  I  know  he  is  all  right,  and  if  I  can 
sometimes  go  and  see  him  —  Oxford  men  like  to 
have  their  sisters  visiting  them,  Mr.  Moffatt 
said;  only  it  must  be  pretty  sisters  —  not  such 
as  me." 

Miss  Waldershare  asked,  gravely,  "  if  it  were 
Mr.  Moffatt  who  said  that? "  because  she  her- 
self thought  the  little  dark-eyed  face  and  dainty 
figure  made  up  a  sister  quite  well-looking 
enough   for   any   college   "man." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Dorcas,  laughing,  "  I 
really  will  go  up  next  Commemoration.  It  will 
be  so  grand  to  take  a  walk  with  Cyprian  in  his 
cap  and  gown !  How  handsome  he  will  look  — 
how  proud  mamma  would  have  been  !  Mamma 
always  said  Cyprian  must  go  to  Oxford." 


36  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

So  talked  they  —  the  elder  and  the  younger 
woman  —  in  the  dim  evening  light  ;  waiting  for 
the  letter  —  there  were  no  telegraphs  then  — 
which  was  to  bring  the  important  news. 

At  last  it  came:  two  letters  arrived — the  sec- 
ond being  from  Mr.  Moffatt.  Dorcas  laid  it 
aside,  and  opened  Cyprian's. 

Only  one  line  —  Miss  Waldershare  could  see. 
She  saw  also  that  Dorcas's  poor  little  hands  fell 
helplessly  on  her  lap  —  she  had  instinctively  sat 
down — and  then  were  clasped  together  in  a 
mute  acceptance  of  the  inevitable. 

"  I  always  expected  it  —  he  could  not  help  it. 
He  says  he  did  his  best.     My  poor  boy !  " 

" Poor  girl!"  Miss  Waldershare  felt  inclined 
to  say;  but  she  said  nothing  —  only  kissed  her 
silently.  Then  Dorcas  leaned  her  head  on  her 
friend's  shoulder  and  wept  bitterly. 

"  Tears  won't  do,"  she  said,  at  last,  drying 
them.  "  He  will  be  here  to-night,  no  doubt  — 
or  to-morrow  morning  —  for  he  will  have  to  go 
out  to  India  at  once.  Papa  said  he  must,  if  he 
failed  in  his  matriculation.  He  has  lost  only  too 
much  time  already  ;  and  we  are  wholly  depend- 
ent upon  papa.     Oh,  my  poor  boy  !  " 

She  wrung  her  hands,  oblivious  of  everything 
—  even  of  the  second  letter  —  which  Miss  Wal- 
dershare proposed  to  open  and  read. 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER 


37 


38  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

"  Dear  Miss  Hall,  —  '  Plucked '  is  a  hard 
word,  but  Cyprian  must  not  let  his  courage 
sink.  Many  a  man  has  succeeded  in  the  world 
after  being  plucked.  Perhaps,  after  all,  he  is 
scarcely  fit  for  university  life,  and  this  may  be 
for  the  best  in  the  end.  Try  to  believe  so  — 
though  I  know  it  is  hard.  We  shall  be  with  you 
almost  as  soon  as  this  letter. 

"  Yours  sincerely,         James  Moffatt." 

"  How  kind  he  is  !  "  said  Miss  Waldershare. 

"  Yes,  very  kind." 

And  so  he  was  —  as  kind  as  Miss  Waldershare 
herself  —  for  the  two  took  counsel  together  over 
the  helpless  sister  many  a  time  during  the  mel- 
ancholy days  which  ensued,  when  it  was  neces- 
sary to  arrange  everything  for  Cyprian's  depart- 
ure, and  for  the  parting  of  the  twins,  literally 
for  the  first  time  in  their  lives —  except  that  brief 
attempt  at  tutoring  of  which  everybody  had 
said  as  little  as  possible. 

So  great  was  the  despair  of  both  at  first  that 
Miss  Waldershare  suggested  Dorcas's  going  out 
with  him  to  India. 

The  girl  shook  her  head.  "  No ;  it  would  be 
too  expensive.  It  would  vex  papa  —  he  only 
sent  home  money  for  one.  Besides  "  —  with  a 
sad  casting  down  of  the  eyes  —  "  papa  does  not 
want  me.     He  never  did  want  us,  you  know." 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  39 

Miss  Waldershare  asked  no  explanation  of 
what  was  evidently  some  family  difficulty.  She 
saw  that  Cyprian  must  go,  and  Dorcas  stay  be- 
hind —  at  least  for  the  present.  It  was  very 
sad  —  so  sad  that,  being  more  accustomed  to  go 
to  the  house  of  mourning  than  to  the  house  of 
feasting,  she  put  off  a  grand  London  visit,  and 
remained  still  a  few  days  more  in  the  dull  little 
town,  where  she  knew  not  a  creature  but  these, 
her  sorrowful  friends. 

It  was  a  terrible  time.  Most  people  nowadays 
know  it  — have  witnessed  or  gone  through  it  — 
when  some  young  member  of  the  family  has  to 
be  sent  away  abroad  — an  agony  sharp  as  death 
even  under  the  best  of  circumstances.  Coming 
nearer  and  nearer  each  day  to  the  fatal  day  was 
almost,  as  Cyprian  declared,  "  like  going  to  be 
hanged." 

He  felt  it  very  much  at  first,  poor  boy  !  grew 
quite  thin  and  white,  and  could  never  look  at 
Dorcas  without  the  tears  coming  into  his  eyes. 
But  by  and  by  the  excitement  of  preparation 
comforted  him  a  little.  He  became  such  an 
important  person  in  his  little  circle,  and  even  in 
the  town,  where  seldom  such  a  thing  was  heard 
of  as  a  young  man  "  going  out  to  India."  Even 
his  outfit  created  a  secondary  interest,  and  also 
his  trunks,  which  the  shop-keeper  exhibited  at 


40  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

the  door,  marked,  in  white  letters,  "  Cyprian 
Hall,  Esq.,  Calcutta."  There  was  a  pleasant 
and  consolatory  side  even  to  this  cruel  parting. 

"But  it  shall  not  be  for  long,  that  I  am  deter- 
mined on  ! "  said  Cyprian,  with  great  energy. 
"As  soon  as  ever  lam  settled  I  will  send  out  for 
Dor,  and  we  will  live  together — bachelor  brother 
and  maiden  sister  —  and  be  as  happy  as  the  day 
is  long  ;  won't  we,  '  little  mother '  ? " 

She  half  smiled,  half  sobbed  at  the  word. 
"  Cyprian  always  sees  the  bright  side  of  things 
—  and  he  is  right.  Don't  you  think  so,  Miss 
Waldershare  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  elder  woman,  but  thought 
also  how  little  he  thought  who  it  was  that  had 
invariably  made  life  turn  its  sunny  side  to  him, 
if  possible,  even  though  somebody  else  had  to 
walk  in  the  shade. 

So  much  so  that  even  the  last  day  was  not 
such  a  very  dreary  day  at  the  Terrace,  where 
Miss  Waldershare  paid  her  final  call  at  least 
forty-eight  hours  before  Cyprian's  departure. 
With  her  constitutional  shyness,  she  thought  it 
best  not  to  stay  to  the  very  end,  not  being  a 
relative,  nor  exactly  a  "friend  of  the  family." 
And,  judging  by  herself,  she  considered  that, 
after  the  two  were  really  gone  —  Mr.  Moffatt 
was  to  see  the  poor  fellow  off  from  Liverpool,. 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  4 1 

and  then  come  back,  en  route  for  Oxford,  with 
the  latest  news  —  after  that  it  would  be  easier 
for  Dorcas  to  be  left  quite  alone. 

Therefore  she  bade  the  twins  a  cheerful  good- 
by,  reminded  them  both  how  young  they  were, 
and  how  the  world  was  all  before  them,  and 
their  lot  in  their  own  hands,  to  do  what  they 
liked  with  it  almost ;  for  at  twenty,  with  health, 
strength,  work  to  do,  and  the  capacity  and  will 
to  do  it,  what  young  man  or  young  woman  need 
feel  hopeless  or  forlorn  ?  She  "  preached  "  a 
little,  yet  feeling  all  the  while  how  vain  "  preach- 
ing "  is,  and  how  each  young  soul  must  buy  its 
own  experience  in  its  own  way. 

And  then  she  kissed  and  blessed  them  both 
—  poor  young  things  !  — now  going  through  the 
sharpest  experience  of  their  existence,  and  feel- 
ing their  anguish  with  all  the  passionate  inten- 
sity of  youth,  to  whom  every  sorrow  appears  at 
the  time  like  a  sorrow  eternal. 

She  understood  this — and  them  :  the  solitary 
woman  to  whom  life  was  no  longer  a  vista  of 
the  future,  but  a  dream  of  the  past.  And  then 
she  went  away,  walking  rather  slowly  and  sadly, 
and  trying  hard  to  believe  all  the  hopeful  things 
she  had  been  saying  a  few  minutes  before  to 
both  Cyprian  and  Dorcas,  when  she  was  over- 
taken by  a  quick  footstep  :  it  was  Mr.  Moffatt's. 


42  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

"  Allow  me  to  walk  home  with  you,"  he  said. 
"  Oh,"  seeing  she  hesitated,  "that  is  no  matter! 
They  don't  want  me." 

A  fact  which  Miss  Waldershare  could  not 
deny  —  which,  indeed,  she  had  noticed,  and  been 
almost  sorry  for  :  feeling  that  the  twins  did  not 
half  appreciate  the  kindness  of  a  friend  so  much 
older  than  themselves,  and  so  familiar  that  they 
both  took  his  devotion  for  granted.  But  she, 
who  knew  the  world  better,  respected  it  as  a 
thing  only  too  rare. 

He  walked  on  beside  her,  talking  a  good  deal 
about  them  both,  or  rather  about  Cyprian.  He 
did  not  seem  to  consider  Dorcas  as  a  person  to 
be  discussed  at  all  —  not  even  her  sorrow,  which 
she  bore  so  silently  that  her  friends  instinctively 
were  silent  too. 

"  Do  you  think  there  is  the  making  of  a  man 
in  that  boy  ? "  said  Miss  Waldershare,  at  last, 
when  they  were  face  to  face  at  the  hotel  door. 

"  I  hope  there  is  —  I  think  there  is  —  if  only 
he  falls  into  good  hands.  There  are  some 
people,  you  know,  who  make  themselves  and 
their  career ;  others  are  made  by  circumstances 
or  influences.  It  remains  to  be  seen  under 
what  category  we  may  place  Cyprian  Hall." 

"  And  Dorcas  ? "  said  Miss  Waldershare, 
looking  fixedly  in  the  eyes  of  the  good,  honest 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  43 

man  —  a  curious,  penetrating,  half-sad,  but  ex- 
ceedingly tender  look,  not  unbefitting  a  kind 
old  woman  who  had  once  been  young. 

Mr.  Moffatt's  sallow  face  blushed  all  over,  but 
he  unhesitatingly  returned  the  gaze. 

"Dorcas  cares  more  for  that  boy's  little 
finger  than  for  any  one  alive.  I  know  that. 
Still,  I  shall  take  care  of  her.  I  am  a  poor  man 
—  a  very  poor  man—  but  I  shall  manage  some- 
how to  take  care  of  her." 

"  I  believe  that,"  was  the  cordial  answer. 
"  God  bless  you.     Good  by." 

Six  months  after  this,  business  again  called 
Miss  Waldershare  to  her  native  town,  and  of 
course  she  went  at  once  to  the  Terrace  to  see 
Dorcas  Hall.  Only  to  look  at  her,  having 
already  heard  by  letter  all  the  news  of  Cyprian  ; 
exceedingly  good  news,  so  that  she  was  hardly 
surprised  at  the  gentle  content  of  his  sister's 
face,  and  the  more  than  usually  hopeful  tone  in 
which  Dorcas  spoke  of  him  and  everything. 

"  Papa  "  —  that  long  invisible,  seldom-named 
father  —  had  been  quite  glad  to  see  his  eldest 
son  ;  he  was  growing  elderly,  with  a  lot  of  young 
children.  Cyprian  might  become  of  the  greatest 
use  to  him.  Cyprian  had  taken  kindly  to  busi- 
ness, found  it  rather  "amusing"  than  other- 
wise, and  liked  the  gay  Calcutta  life,  where,  no 


44  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

doubt,  he  was  as  great  a  favorite  as  he  had  al- 
ways been  everywhere.  He  was  poor,  certainly, 
for  his  father  only  allowed  him  a  clerk's  salary, 
probably  all  he  deserved  at  first,  but  he  hoped 
to  "make  it  do,"  and  to  earn  more  by  and  by. 

"  And  what  does  he  plan  about  bringing  you 
out  to  him  ?  You  must  have  a  dull  life  here 
with  Miss  Moffatt,  and  he  knows  it.  What  does 
he  say  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  answered  the  sister,  casting  down 
her  eyes.  Then,  suddenly,  in  the  old  apologetic 
way,  "  I  did  not  expect  anything  else.  Cyprian 
used  to  leave  me  to  do  all  the  planning.  He  is 
content  with  the  present.  He  never  looks 
ahead  in  any  way.     I  know  that." 

"  But,  surely,  as  soon  as  he  can,  he  will  send 
for  you  or  fetch  you  ?  " 

Dorcas  again  cast  down  her  eyes,  and  a  vivid 
blush  overspread  her  face. 

"  Perhaps  —  Mr.  Moffatt  might  not  quite  like 
me  to  go." 


PaRTIH 

THIRTY  TEAR5  OLD 


HE  second  decade  of  Miss  Walder- 
share's  acquaintance  with  the  twin 
brother  and  sister  differed  a  little 
from  the  first  one.  It  flew  faster — years  do 
fly  much  faster  between  twenty  and  thirty  than 
between  ten  and  twenty.  How  then  must  it  be 
between  fifty-five  and  sixty-five?  —  which  she 
was  now :  no  longer  an  "  elderly,"  but  an  old 
lady. 

A  fact  which  she  had  at  last  learned  patiently 
to  recognize.  Like  other  active,  energetic,  and 
unselfish  women,  she  had  resisted  fate  to  the 


46  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

last ;  maintained  her  youth  and  her  bright-heart- 
edness  ;  refused  to  succumb  to  many  a  cruel 
shock  ;  resolved  to  "  die  with  harness  on  her 
back."  But  the  wear  and  tear  of  life  gradually 
overcame  her.  After  one  bad  illness  she  sud- 
denly found  out  that  she  could  not  revive  as 
heretofore  —  that  she  had  grown,  to  all  intents 
and  purposes,  an  old  woman. 

After  that  she  had  to  learn  to  be  quiet,  to  let 
others  do  her  work  instead  of  doing  it  all  her- 
self ;  content  if  she  were  still  the  head,  though 
not  the  hands  as  well  ;  and  more  than  content, 
thankful,  to  see  the  young  rising  up  to  do  her 
duties  for  her,  and  to  work  in  her  stead,  against 
the  time  when  her  place  should  know  her  no 
more. 

Something  on  this  wise  she  wrote  to  her  friend 
Dorcas  Hall.     For  they  had  long  become 

"  A  pair  of  friends 
Affectionate  and  true," 

in  spite  of  the  difference  in  their  ages,  and  the 
great  gaps  of  time  that  intervened  between  their 
meetings,  owing  to  the  busy  life  of  both.  But 
they  corresponded  regularly  ;  and  Dorcas's  sim- 
ple history,  as  told  in  her  letters,  became  the 
strongest  interest  Miss  Waldershare  had.  Es- 
pecially so,  when  for  this  active  woman  all  the 
pleasures  of  existence  slowly  dwindled  down  to 


HIS   LITTLE    MOTHER.  47 

her  own  house  and  garden  ;  and  at  last,  during 
the  winter  months,  to  the  limits  of  four  silent 
walls. 

Dorcas's  letters  — they  are  now  arranged  and 
labelled  and  packed  together  in  a  box,  to  go 
some  day  possibly  to  some  rightful  owner,  if 
not  consigned  previously,  by  still  tenderer  hands, 
to  that  safest  receptacle  of  all  treasures  —  the 
fire.  They  began  immediately  after  Cyprian 
left  for  India, and  were  full  of  him  and  his  doings. 
Sometimes  his  letters  were  enclosed  therein  — 
bright,  clever,  funny,  but  by  no  means  confiden- 
tial epistles,  if.  indeed,  he  had  had  anything  to 
con fkle,  even  to  his  "little  mother."  At  first 
they  came  every  mail,  then  less  frequently,  then 
they  stopped  entirely  for  a  while ;  and  Dorcas 
had  to  deaden  her  anxiety  by  the  brief  tidings 
she  got  of  him  through  father  and  step-mother. 

After  that — sudden,  startling  news!  Cy- 
prian was  married  —  actually  married  !  at  the  age 
of  two-and-twenty  ;  unknown  to  any  one,  and  to 
a  girl  whom  nobody  had  ever  heard  of.  He  had 
met  her  at  some  hill-station  —  a  mere  child  of 
sixteen  —  most  charming,  in  spite  of  a  slight 
touch  of  the  despised  Hindoo  blood  shining 
through  her  beautiful  brown  face.  So  said  Cy- 
prian, who  had  fallen  madly  in  love,  and  in  three 
weeks  brought  her  home  to  Calcutta  as  his  bride. 


48  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

But  the  father — irritated,  and  not  without 
cause,  at  such  an  imprudent  proceeding — turned 
him  adrift,  thus  depriving  him  of  his  clerk's 
salary,  the  only  income  he  had. 

"Yet  he  is  so  clever  —  has  so  many  friends 
—  he  will  speedily  find  other  work,"  wrote  the 
sister,  trying  to  look  on  the  bright  side  of  things. 
And  it  was  so,  for  Cyprian  seemed  always  to 
fall  on  his  feet.  But  the  breach  between  him 
and  his  father  was  made — and  made  for  life. 

This  was  Dorcas's  agony  ;  not  the  marriage  : 
she  forgave  that.  In  the  heart  of  the  "little 
mother  "  jealousy  —  sisterly  jealousy  —  was  im- 
possible. 

"He  was  sure  to  fall  in  love ;  and  to  marry 
early  was  the  best  thing  that  could  happen  to 
him.  I  always  told  him  so.  Cyprian  could 
never  do  without  a  woman  to  take  care  of  him. 
Only  I  wish  he  had  waited  till  he  had  just  a  lit- 
tle more  money  —  and — I  wish  he  had  not 
vexed  papa  !  For  all  else  —  look  at  her  likeness. 
Isn't  it  a  sweet  face  ?  My  pretty  '  sister  ! ' 
How  could  he  help  loving  her  ?  And  after  all, 
dear  friend,  don't  you  think  that  love  is  best  ? " 

Whether  Miss  Waldershare  did  or  not  — that 
Dorcas  did,  she  knew.  For  James  Moffatt  had 
just  persuaded  her  to  wait  indefinite  years,  till 
the  Fellowship  he  now  held  should  result  in  a 
College  living. 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  49 

"  We  are  not  like  Cyprian  "  — and  her  friend 
fancied  she  could  almost  have  seen  the  smile, 
half-tender,  half-amused,  yet  just  a  little  sad, 
with  which  Dorcas  always  spoke  or  wrote  of 
Cyprian  —  "  we  can  wait.  Papa  will  never  need 
to  be  angry  with  us."  Which,  indeed,  was  not 
likely,  as  Mr.  Hall,  senior,  had  always  been  too 
indifferent  to  his  daughter  to  feel  either  pleas- 
ure or  displeasure  at  any  of  her  proceedings. 

So  time  went  on  ;  and  Dorcas  still  lived  with 
Miss  Moffatt  —  upon  a  very  small  allowance,  ap- 
parently ;  for  she  began  to  supplement  it  in  va- 
rious silent  ways,  especially  in  selling  her  draw- 
ings, which  were  remarkably  good  for  an  amateur. 
It  was  a  dull  life,  except  in  the  long  vacation, 
when  Mr.  Moffatt  came  to  share  her  devoted 
care  of  his  infirm  old  aunt,  and  to  speculate  with 
her  on  the  chances  of  that  College  living  which 
was  to  open  all  paradise  to  these  simple  souls. 
But  more  than  one  living  fell  in,  and  was  given 
to  somebody  else  —  somebody  more  "pushing," 
or  with  more  College  influence  than  honest 
James  Moffatt.  Year  after  year  went  by,  and 
he  was  still  a  Fellow,  and  Miss  Hall  a  spinster 
—  travelling  through  her  twenties  as  she  had 
done  through  her  teens — complaining  to  no 
one  and  troubling  no  one.  Few  even  knew  that 
she  was  engaged  —  she  and  James  being  both 


50  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

silent  people,  who  preferred  not  to  perplex  any 
one  with  their  affairs. 

Thus  she  drifted  on,  till  she  had  ceased  to  feel 
herself  a  girl  any  more,  and  one  day  told  Miss 
Waldershare,  with  a  sort  of  pathetic  amuse- 
ment, of  somebody  who  had  called  her  a  "  born 
old  maid."  This  was  about  the  middle  of  the 
ten  years.  Very  soon  after,  she  arrived,  quite 
suddenly  and  unexpectedly,  at  Miss  Walder- 
share's  door,  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  looking 
pale  and  grave,  but  with  a  strange  smile,  not 
at  all  of  hopeless  misery,  creeping  about  her 
mouth. 

"  I  come  to  you  in  my  trouble,"  she  said  ;  "  I 
wanted  to  consult  you  —  James  would  not  un- 
derstand —  it  is  only  a  woman  that  would  under- 
stand." 

"What  — what  has  happened?"  looking  in 
dread  at  her  black  dress.     "  Not  —  not  Cyprian  ? " 

"No;  his  wife  —  poor  Issa.  She  has  died, 
and  left  him  with  twins.  Think  !  twins  — 
brother  and  sister  —  just  like  Cyprian  and  me 
—  only  a  month  old  !  " 

And  then  her  self-restraint  of  many  hours 
gave  way,  and  Dorcas  burst  out  weeping  in  her 
friend's  opened  arms. 

It  was  a  very  sad  story,  to  which,  elderly  and 
prudent  woman  as  she  was,  Miss  Waldershare 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  5 1 

could  not  refuse  her  sympathy.  Rash  and 
foolish  as  the  young  couple  had  been,  they  had 
paid  for  their  folly  in  keen  suffering.  At  the 
last,  the  poor  dying  mother  would  have  wanted 
the  commonest  comforts  of  life,  but  for  the  kind- 
ness which  even  strangers  often  show  to  one 
another  in  India. 

"  And  what  of  the  babies  ?  Surely  your 
father  will  relent  now,  and  take  the  poor  help- 
less babies  !  " 

"N — no,"  said  Dorcas,  looking  clown.  "  In 
fact,  Cyprian  would  not  have  let  them  go.  He 
preferred  sending  them,  in  charge  of  his  wife's 
ayah,  to  me." 

"  To  you  ?     Good  heavens  !  " 

"Oh — you  could  not  say  I  am  not  to  take 
them  !  My  poor  little  babies  —  Cyprian's  own 
children.  Where  should  he  have  sent  them  ex- 
cept to  me  ?  I  was  his  '  little  mother,'  you 
remember  ? " 

"  But  the  burden  —  the  trouble  —  the  ex- 
pense even  —  in  case  he  does  not  send  money 
enough  to  maintain  them." 

"  He  will,  or,  if  not,  I  can  work,"  said  Dorcas, 
calmly.  "  I  do  work  as  it  is.  It  will  be  merely 
keeping  the  money  here  instead  of  sending  it." 

Here  she  stopped,  blushing  so  violently  that 
Miss    Waldershare    turned    her   head    another 


52  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

way.  But  she  had  only  found  out  a  fact  long 
guessed,  that  every  penny  the  sister  earned  and 
could  spare  went  out  to  the  poor  young  couple 
in  India. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  dear  !  If  you  come  for 
my  advice,  it  is  —  just  follow  your  own.  But  — 
Mr.  Mofratt?" 

"  James  is  a  man  who  always  does  his  duty  — 
he  will  never  hinder  me  in  doing  mine,"  was  the 
answer,  given  with  much  proud  confidence. 

"  Well,  and  when  do  your  twins  arrive  ?  " 

"  Cyprian  put  them  on  board  a  merchant- 
vessel,  in  charge  of  the  captain  and  his  wife. 
They  may  arrive  any  day.  Only  think  —  me 
with  my  two  babies,  my  dear  little  twins  !" 

"  You  foolish  girl  !  and  how  do  you  intend  to 
manage  them  ?  " 

"  Doesn't  somebody — yourself,  I  think  —  say 
that  any  woman  with  common  sense  and  a 
motherly  heart  can  soon  learn  how  to  manage 
a  baby  ?  " 

So,  caught  in  her  own  trap,  Miss  Walder- 
share  ceased  to  look  "  severe,"  and  entered 
heartily  into  the  joy,  almost  extinguishing  grief, 
that  filled  the  heart  of  Cyprian's  "  little  mother," 
in  having  these  motherless  babies  to  take  care 
of.  The  burden  of  them  —  and  Miss  Walder- 
share  foresaw   how  heavy  it  was   likely  to  be, 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  53 

for  willing  shoulders  never  lack  a  weight  — was 
wholly  forgotten  in  the  inexpressible  pride  and 
delight. 

So  the  two  spinsters,  young  and  old,  made 
every  preparation  for  the  reception  of  the 
babies,  feeling  as  happy  as  children  with  a  new 
doll.  It  was  foolish,  perhaps,  but  natural,  con- 
sidering the  sort  of  women  they  were  ;  women 
whom  it  often  pleases  Heaven  to  make  child- 
less, if  only  for  the  sake  of  the  many  children 
in  this  world  who  are,  outwardly,  or  in  reality, 
motherless. 

And  when  at  last  the  twins  arrived  —  two 
poor  little  skinny  things,  with  great  dark  eyes 
and  brown,  wizened  faces,  not  at  all  like  whole- 
some English  babies — their  aunt's  pride  in 
them  knew  no  bounds  ;  for  were  they  not  her 
very  own  flesh  and  blood  —  Cyprian's  children, 
bearing  his  name  ?  And  as  they  began  to 
improve  in  looks,  they  were  not  unlike  him  — 
or  she  fancied  so.  Her  happiness  in  them  was 
something  absolutely  inexpressible. 

And  when,  after  a  month  or  two,  the  ayah 
sailed  for  India  —  no  slight  relief  —  she  took 
them  entirely  under  her  own  charge,  and, 
despite  the  forebodings  of  neighbors  and  friends, 
made  a  most  capital  nurse.  Instead  of  dying, 
which  everybody  fully   expected,  the    twins  — 


54  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

"  Miss  Hall's  twins,"  as  they  were  somewhat 
oddly  called  —  were,  though  still  brown  and 
thin,  as  nice  and  even  as  pretty  children  as  any 
on  the  Terrace  —  nay,  in  the  whole  town.  Even 
old  Miss  Moffatt  was  proud  of  "  our  children  ; " 
and  in  her  second  childhood  rather  enjoyed 
having  the  silent  house  filled  with  young  voices 
and  the  sound  of  pattering  feet.  Especially  as, 
being  thoroughly  healthy,  happy,  and  well 
cared  for,  the  twins  were  almost  always  good. 
Their  education,  begun  by  their  aunt  at  two 
months  old,  and  never  intrusted  to  any  one  but 
herself,  was  certainly  no  failure,  as  many  a  grave 
matron  had  prognosticated  it  would  be,  in 
smiling  over  the  proverbial  perfection  of  "  old 
maids'  children." 

**  Trouble  ?  "  wrote  Dorcas  in  answer  to  some 
questions  of  Miss  Waldershare's  —  "  the  poor 
little  things  are  no  trouble  at  all.  I  never 
amuse  them  —  I  teach  them  to  amuse  themselves. 
1  Two  kittens  and  a  ball  of  worsted  '  —  the  grand 
remedy  for  low  spirits  —  why  my  '  kittens  '  are 
far  the  best,  and  they  never  hinder  work  " 
(the  work  which  she  now  owned  had  become 
vitally  necessary).  "  '  Auntie  busy  —  must  not 
interrupt  auntie,'  they  say,  settle  together  in  a 
corner  of  my  painting-room  —  their  '  den  '  we 
call  it,  and  there  they  play  together  for  hours. 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  55 

I  keep  an  eye  —  or  half  an  eye  —  upon  them, 
and  that  is  all  ;  they  never  trouble  me.  They 
are  such  good  little  children." 

It  did  occur  to  Miss  Waldershare  that  a  good 
nurse  generally  makes  good  children,  and  that 
those  who  complain  of  unruly  ones  might  often, 
if  they  looked  within,  find  better  cause  to  com- 
plain of  themselves.  But  she  said  nothing. 
There  is  a  common  but  shrewd  proverb,  "  The 
proof  of  the  pudding  is  in  the  eating,"and  certain- 
ly no  one  could  see  the  merry,  wholesome,  easily 
managed  children  and  their  contented  aunt, 
and  not  feel  that,  however  she  did  it,  she  con- 
trived to  make  both  them  and  herself  thoroughly 
happy,  without  interfering  with  the  happiness 
of  anybody  else.  Even  Mr.  Moffatt,  though  at 
first  a  trifle  jealous,  soon  became  quite  satisfied. 
For  he  saw  her  satisfied  ;  with  her  heart  full  of 
love,  and  her  life  full  of  duties,  which,  though 
not  always  easy,  were  always  sweet. 

And  Cyprian  ?  — 

Cyprian's  letters  —  which  Miss  Waldershare 
sometimes  got  a  sight  of  —  were  clever  and 
charming  as  ever,  and  became  gradually  less  and 
less  sad.  He  was  not  of  the  temperament  that 
grieves  eternally,  even  for  a  lost  wife.  And 
presently  he  found  plenty  of  work  to  do  ;  though 
it  was  hard  work,  and  such  small  pay,  Dorcas 


56  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

said,  that  it  was  "  fortunate  "  she  herself  was 
able  to  maintain  the  twins  entirely.  Dressed 
very  plainly,  and  brought  up  simply,  they  were 
yet  children  whom  any  father  might  be  proud 
of ;  and  so  would  their  father  be,  she  hoped, 
when  he  came  home. 

11  Papa's  coming  home  "  —  the  ideal  "  papa" 
whom  the  twins  were  constantly  told  of,  and 
taught  to  believe  in  with  a  passionate  admiration, 
as  soon  as  their  little  minds  could  take  in  any- 
thing —  was  now  the  dream  of  Dorcas's  life. 

"  If  I  could  see  him  once  again  !  —  give  his 
children  into  his  arms,  and  watch  him  with  them 
—  he  used  to  be  so  fond  of  children,  and  such  a 
favorite  with  them,  as  he  was  with  everybody. 
It  is  very  hard  for  him  to  be  parted  from  his 
pretty  twins  —  many  things  have  been  very 
hard  for  him  ;  but  I  think  all  is  brightening. 
He  is  much  better  off  now  than  he  was.  Poor 
Cyprian ! " 

In  spite  of  the  advancing  prosperity,  which 
showed  itself,  if  not  in  regular  payments,  in  very 
valuable  Indian  presents  to  herself  and  the  chil- 
dren —  she  still  called  him  "  poor  Cyprian  !  " 
But — it  was  a  curious  fact —  she  never  by  any 
chance  called  Mr.  Moffatt  "  poor  James  !  " 

No,  not  though  he  worked  hard  and  had  few 
pleasures :    his     Fellowship    barely    gave   him 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  57 

enough  to  live  on,  and  the  College  living  still 
hung  afar  off  "  in  the  clouds."  But  he  trusted 
Dorcas,  and  she  trusted  him  ;  they  wrote  con- 
stantly, and  met  occasionally,  whenever  they 
could.  And  what  is  it  that  makes  happiness  ? 
I  think,  not  prosperity  ;  not  even  the  attainment 
of  all  one  wishes,  but  the  power  of  enjoying 
what  one  has.  A  clean  heart,  a  quiet  conscience, 
a  loving  and  faithful  soul  —  these,  in  spite  of 
outward  circumstances,  will  create  a  happy,  at 
least  a  not  unhappy  life.  Therefore,  I  refuse 
to  consider  James  Moffatt  and  Dorcas  Hall  al- 
together miserable. 

Miss  Waldershare,  seeing  this,  ceased  to  be 
needlessly  miserable  concerning  them.  In  truth, 
as  the  years  slipped  by,  her  restless  anxiety  over 
those  she  loved  somewhat  abated.  She  learned 
to  trust  Heaven  a  little  more,  and  herself  a  little 
less  ;  to  believe  that  the  Father  above  would 
take  care  of  her  dear  ones  as  well  as  she  could 
—  possibly  a  little  better.  Therefore,  though 
she  and  Dorcas,  tied  by  many  duties,  seldom 
met  face  to  face,  still  she  rested  content  about 
her  friend,  until  one  day,  when,  to  her  great 
surprise,  she  got  a  letter  from  Cyprian. 

"  I  am  not  quite  easy  concerning  my  sister," 
he  wrote  ;  "  and  would  be  grateful  to  you  to  tell 
me  exactly  how  she  is.     She  rarely  speaks  of 


58  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

herself,  but  now  she  owns  to  being  'not  strong;' 
and  is  very  anxious  that  I  should  come  home. 
Why?  She  is  young  still  —  we  are  not  thirty 
yet"  —  that  half-comical,  yet  infinitely  pathetic 
"  we  "  of  twins.     "  But  if  her  health    is   really 


failing,  what  should  I  do?  Who  would  take 
care  of  my  children  ?  I  trust  to  you,  her  faith- 
ful friend,  to  tell  me  the  exact  truth  concerning 
her." 

Which,  having  exerted  all  her  small  strength 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  59 

in  a  four  days'  visit  to  Dorcas,  Miss  Waldershare 
did. 

"  I  do  not  consider  your  sister  'failing,'  "  was 
the  letter  that  went  out  to  Calcutta  by  the  next 
mail,  "  but  she  is  naturally  delicate,  and  she  has 
had  a  hard  life.  Two  children  to  bring  up  — 
first  to  earn  the  money,  and  then  to  spend  it  " 
(Miss  Waldershare  could  be  severely  candid 
when  she  thought  right),  "  a  feeble  old  lady  to 
take  charge  of,  and  the  anxiety  of  a  doubtful  fu- 
ture ;  being  torn  in  two,  as  it  were  —  for  when 
Mr.  Moffatt  does  get  the  living  which  is  prom- 
ised him,  and  seems  very  near  now,  what  is  she 
to  do  ?  No  man  likes  to  enter  on  married  life 
burdened  with  another  man's  children.  Yes, 
my  dear  Cyprian,  though  not  failing  now,  she 
may  fail.  I  do  think  it  would  be  right  and  best 
for  you  to  come  home." 

Having  written  thus  strongly,  and  without 
delay  —  for  she  felt  these  things  ought  to  be 
said,  and  who  was  there  to  say  them  but  her- 
self ? —  Miss  Waldershare  was  a  long  time  be- 
fore she  heard  any  further  ;  for  shortly  afterwards 
she  fell  ill,  and  lingered  weeks  and  months  in 
that  sort  of  semi-existence  when  everything  but 
the  things  close  at  hand  seems  to  grow  dim,  and 
she  began  to  understand  clearer  how,  by  and 
by,  the  outside  world  and  all  its  interests  might 


60  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

fade  away  from  her  altogether,  almost  without 
pain. 

She  had  been  a  little  surprised  that  Dorcas 
Hall  never  came  to  see  her,  never  offered  to 
come  ;  though  writing  regularly,  and  telling  all 
the  news  about  everybody,  except  herself.  But 
these  letters,  so  sweet  and  cheerful,  as  well  as 
punctual,  took  away  all  suspicion  that  anything 
was  wrong. 

More  especially  as  each  letter  brought  brighter 
tidings.  Mr.  Moffatt  had  at  last  got  the  ex- 
pected living  in  Derbyshire,  such  a  pretty  neigh- 
borhood, and  a  prettier  parsonage  —  everything 
they  could  both  desire.  And  Cyprian  was  com- 
ing home  —  they  hoped  in  time  for  the  marriage. 
Also,  not  alone.  The  twins  would  have  to  wel- 
come not  only  their  unknown  father,  but  a  step- 
mother—  young,  and,  by  her  letters,  very  sweet 
and  good. 

This  last  piece  of  news  Dorcas  communicated 
by  word  of  mouth,  waiting  beside  Miss  Walder- 
share  at  the  station,  whither,  on  her  way  to  Bux- 
ton Baths,  the  invalid  had  begged  to  be  met. 
By  a  battalion,  as  it  turned  out  —  Mr.  Moffatt, 
Dorcas,  and  the  little  twins,  now  growing  quite 
big  children. 

"  I  have  told  them  they  must  learn  to  say 
'  mamma,'  and  that  they  are  sure  to  love  her.    I 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  6l 

was  not  surprised  —  indeed  I  was  quite  glad," 
she  added.  "  Cyprian  needed  a  wife  so  much  ; 
and  he  has  waited  a  long  time." 

"  Yes,  six  years  is  a  long  time,  and  men  don't 
like  waiting,"  said  Miss  Waldershare,  rather 
satirically.  "  There  is  almost  no  such  thing 
as  a  faithful  man  " 

"  Except  James,"  said  Dorcas,  gently,  as  she 
held  out  her  hand  to  him  with  a  smile.  To  the 
end  of  her  days  Miss  Waldershare  will  never 
forget  that  look  and  that  smile. 

Somewhat  to  her  friend's  surprise,  Dorcas 
never  referred  to  the  question  as  to  what  was  to 
be  done  with  the  twins  when  the  father  came 
home,  or  after  he  went  back  to  India  again. 
Nor  did  she  speak  much  of  her  own  future, 
scarcely  of  the  future  at  all.  She  seemed  quite 
absorbed  in  the  happy  present. 

"  Only  to  think,  in  one  week  Cyprian  will  be 
at  home  !  After  ten  years — ten  long,  anxious 
years.  He  will  look  quite  middle-aged,  I  dare 
say.  I  shall  hardly  know  him  —  or  he  me. 
Oh  yes,  we  shall,  —  we  shall  !  And  I  shall  show 
him  his  children,  just  like  what  he  and  I  were 
in  the  days  when  I  was  his  '  little  mother.'  Do 
you  remember? " 

Miss  Waldershare  did  remember ;  and  thought, 
irradiated  by  this  wonderful  flood  of  joy,  Dorcas, 


62  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

pale  and  thin  as  she  was,  looked  almost  like  the 
little  Dorcas  of  the  children's  tea-party  so  many 
years  ago.  They  spoke  of  it — and  of  heaps 
of  other  things  —  spending  a  most  merry  hour 
together :  till  at  last  the  train  started,  and 
Miss  Waldershare  caught  her  last  glimpse  of 
the  little  group  standing,  as  they  would  so  soon 
stand  on  Southampton  Quay — Dorcas  with  her 
two  children,  one  in  each  hand  —  waiting  for  the 
ship  with  "  papa  "  on  board. 

After  that  day,  for  more  than  ten  days  she 
heard  nothing  of  the  Halls.  She  thought,  per- 
haps, they  were  too  happy  to  remember  her, 
and,  being  very  suffering  herself,  was  almost 
glad.  When  just  making  up  her  mind  to  write 
and  say  so,  in  the  tenderest  and  least  obtrusive 
way,  she  took  up  a  two-days-old  Times ,  and  there 
read,  in  that  fatal  column  which  we  often  glance 
over  so  idly  —  as  being  no  concern  of  ours  — 
the  "  Deaths." 

"On  the  24th,  very  suddenly,  aged  thirty 
years,  Miss  Dorcas  Hall." 

That  same  day  a  letter  from  James  Moffatt, 
brief  and  subdued,  full  of  the  quiet  grief  of  one 
who  knows  he  has  half  a  lifetime  still  to  work 
and  to  grieve  in,  explained  everything. 

People  have  died  of  joy,  it  is  said  :  if  any  one 
ever  did  so  die,  it  was  surely  Dorcas  Hall. 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER.  63 

As  they  found  out  afterward,  she  had  been 
ailing  for  some  time,  but  said  nothing  ;  and  had 
even  supported,  with  a  marvellous  courage,  five 
days  of  killing  suspense,  when  the  Indian  mail 
became  overdue  ;  and  there  were  vague  reports 
of  some  terrible  disaster  having  happened  in  the 
Red  Sea.  But  on  the  sixth  day  there  came  a 
telegram  from  Southampton,  from  Cyprian  : 
"  Arrived  safe  and  well ;  shall  be  with  you  this 
evening." 

It  was  too  much.  Uttering  a  cry,  almost  a 
shriek  of  joy,  she  clasped  her  hands  in  thank- 
fulness, then  put  them  suddenly  to  her  heart. 
In  a  moment,  without  a  word  or  moan,  with  the 
smile  still  on  her  lips,  and  the  telegram  grasped 
in  her  fingers,  Dorcas  was  "away."     She  had 

"  Taken  up  her  crown  and  gone  home," 

according  to  a  sweet  childish  song  —  American 
and  negro — which  she  was  fond  of  singing  to 
her  little  twins.  All  that  day  and  night  it  rung 
in  Miss  Waldersh are's  half-stunned  brain, 

"  She  has  taken  up  her  crown  and  gone  home, 
And  the  angels  are  waiting  at  the  door." 

But,  poor  Cyprian.  Feeble  as  she  was,  the 
very  next  day  Miss  Waldershare  put  herself  in 
the  train,  and  went  to  see  Cyprian. 

The  terrace  looked  exactly  as  usual ;  just  as 


64  HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 

it  had  done  twenty  years  before,  when  she 
went  to  the  children's  tea-party.  Old  Miss 
Moffatt  sat  at  the  open  window,  basking  in  the 
summer  sunshine,  in  her  peaceful  second  child- 
hood.  There  were  no  blinds  down,  of  course  ; 
all  had  happened  a  week  ago  ;  they  had  resumed 
that  old  life  —  Dorcas  was  quite — quite  "  away." 

Miss  Waldershare  was  shown  into  the  draw- 
ing-room, where  sat  writing  a  tall,  handsome 
bearded  man  —  farther  off  a  lady,  very  sweet 
looking,  was  trying  to  amuse  two  children  — her 
children. 

"  We  try  to  make  them  happy,  and  we  shall 
succeed  by  and  by,"  said  Cyprian,  after  the  first 
bitter  half-hour.  "  They  are  our  own  dear 
children." 

"  And  such  good  children,"  added  Cyprian's 
wife.     "I  never  saw  such  good  children." 

"  It  is  all  her  doing,"  the  father  exclaimed. 
"  You  knew  what  she  was,  and  what  she  was  to 
me,  even  when  we  were  no  older  than  these 
twins.  They  will  never  forget  her  —  nor  I. 
She  has  done  everything  for  me  all  my  life  ;  and 
now  when  I  might  have  done  something  for 
her—" 

"  God  has  done  it  differently,"  said  Miss 
Waldershare,  laying  her  hand  on  the  shoulder 
of   the    big,   strong    man,  who  had  sunk  down 


HIS    LITTLE    MOTHER. 


65 


sobbing  like  a  baby.     "  Be  content.     He  knows 
best." 

"I  believe  that.     But  oh  my  '  little  mother' 
—  my  'little  mother  !  '  " 


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YB  37038 


